Nasoh: The Haftarah

The Haftarah is usually related to the themes of the parsha. It is a section from the prophets, the canon that is outside the 5 books of Moses, that ( in our current Shabbat synagogue service) is read immediately after the portion of the week. 

This week, the Haftarah ( from the book of Judges) describes the annunciation of the birth of Shimshon ( Samson). The most immediate(apparent) reference to our parsha is that the parents of Shimshon are told that the baby would be a Nazerite from birth. This is a unique Nazerism. Becoming a Nazir is generally the voluntary decision of an adult for a limited time period, not imposed  at birth and life long. Another significant difference involves corpse contamination. Contact with the dead did not affect Shimshon's Nazerite status. For the ordinary Nazerite, contamination by the dead was the worst violation. If a Nazerite had pledged to remain in the Nazir state for many months, and he drank wine, he would be subject to lashes for the violation of his vow and the duration of his Nazirism would be unaffected.  If he cut his hair, he would need to have a 30 period of hair growth, no matter how long his vow had stipulated. But if he was contaminated by a corpse ( or equivalent) the Nazerite would need to perform a sacrificial ritual and start again, from the beginning, and complete the duration originally stipulated. 

The theme of the husband who suspects his wife of infidelity which is described in the parsha, is also in this Haftarah. The circumstances of the meeting between [Ha]Tzeleponi (the Talmud's name for Manoach's wife, the mother of Samson) and the angel [who tells her not to drink wine because she will bear a special, Nazerite child] could raise suspicion. When she informs her husband, she uses a phrase: Ba aylai, which could imply intimacy. With her current husband she had been childless.  This new entity, whom she identifies as a man ( although the [omniscient] author previously identified it as a maloch, an angel), comes to me and behold! she is pregnant. Her husband Manoach [a name that implies serenity] does rush to conclusions, he does  not make accusations, he does not invoke the Sotah ritual. The haftarah is modeling better behavior. A meeting between a spouse and a man need not lead to suspicion that requires a demeaning ritual for relief. 

There is also a very indirect reference to the Priestly blessing: the capstone of the section of the parsha that contains the Sotah and the Nazir. The blessing begins with Yivorechechah, usually translated as May the Lrd bless you. The word Baruch, blessing, comes with a fundamental meaning of bowing down. One meaning [that I hold dear] is the bending of a tree branch into the surrounding soil, replanting the tree. The generation of offspring is a fundamental blessing.  Perhaps that is why the sentence ends with v'yishmerecha: "watch over you." Soon, parents have no control over the behavior of their offspring and Divine help is welcomed. Samson was a fairly wild character. Without the restrictions of his nazerism, he might have been worse. Imagine a drunk Samson!

Lack of confidence is a thread in the Haftarah. Manoach needs to hear the instructions [already accurately transmitted by his spouse] directly from the "man of Gd"  The being then proves his liminal nature by jumping into the flames at the feast prepared for him. The insecurity that runs through the haftarah points out the insecurity implicit in the parsha

 The accusations of the jealous husband demonstrate his lack of [self]confidence.  The priestly blessing reassured the Israelites that Gd takes note of them. The parsha ends with the description of the 12 identical gifts bestowed on the Tabernacle by the chiefs of the 12 tribes. The uniformity of the gifts, and the completeness of the repetitions is a way to handle insecurity. The nazir uses a ritual to reinforce a longing for purity of spirit that cannot be achieved without help. 

I find it interesting that my spellcheck does not recognize nazerism.  It wants to correct it to Nazism. The Nazir and the Nazi actually have some aspects in common. Both demand a deep immersion into an illogical ritual for the purpose of self validation. Both reflect a deep insecurity

 Confidence is always based on fiction. It can come in handy.

 Bamidbar: The Book of Assignment

This week we start the fourth book of the Torah. In the Jewish world this book is usually called Bamidbar.  That label comes from the first distinctive word in the book: 

וַיְדַבֵּ֨ר יְ

 אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֛ה בְּמִדְבַּ֥ר סִינַ֖י בְּאֹ֣הֶל מוֹעֵ֑ד בְּאֶחָד֩ לַחֹ֨דֶשׁ הַשֵּׁנִ֜י בַּשָּׁנָ֣ה הַשֵּׁנִ֗ית לְצֵאתָ֛ם מֵאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרַ֖יִם לֵאמֹֽר׃

AND the Lord spoke to Moshe in the wilderness of Sinay, in the Tent of Meeting, on the first day of the second month, in the second year after they were come out of the land of Miżrayim,

In English, the book is called "Numbers."  The talmud also calls this book (something like) Numbers . In Yoma 70a it is referred to as:  חוֹמֶשׁ הַפְּקוּדִים.  The Septuagint translators in the second century BCE called it Arithmoi (numbers in Greek) 

There is a very important difference between Numbers and Piqudim. Mathematically, numbers are scalar, they are designations without directions. Piquidim are vectors.  The numbered individual is also given an assignment - to a tribe, to a task, to a place. Numbers are data, piquidim are information. 

The first use of the word PKD (Genesis 21:1)  is when Gd ( at long last) remembers the childless Sarah and she (miraculously) has a child: Isaac.   In this case, Onkelos translates  the word,   פָּקַ֥ד PQD  as   דְּכִיר , remembered.  I was taught that Gd does not forget, so how can Gd remember? This could be a translation issue. If we take PQD to mean "assignment," Gd gave Sarah an assignment. Then,  the problem (almost) goes away. Her pregnancy at that time was Sarah's place in the grand plan,  (which is hidden from humans). 

In Bamidbar (our parsha), PQD assigns each Israelite to a tribe and it assigns each tribe to a positions surrounding the sanctuary. The (scalar) numbers are used to assure  adequate  coverage in all four directions and places the largest group if the forward position.  The numbers reveal that the most privileged tribes ( the Levites and the sons of Joseph) had the smallest numbers. 

The PQD is a mechanism to rescue the people in the wilderness. It organizes them, everyone knows where s/he belongs. A rabble of liberated slaves, people whose days consisted of carrying out tasks ordered by the master, would be spiritually lost in the wilderness. The establishment of an order of co-dependence was required for their survival.  Everyone needs to belong; a place where that person counts. 

Is this the beginning of industrial society, with interchangeable people; jobs that need to filled? I can feel the tension between the anonymous  and the rooting of self in the group. The stories that unfold  in this book are the flower of this tension. 

There is a hidden PQD in the morning ( Shachrith) service for the Sabbath and holidays.  It is in a short, acrostic  poem : 

בְּפִי יְשָׁרִים תִּתְהַלָּל. 

 וּבְדִבְרֵי צַדִּיקִים תִּתְבָּרַךְ. 

 וּבִלְשׁון חֲסִידִים תִּתְרומָם. 

 וּבְקֶרֶב קְדושִׁים תִּתְקַדָּשׁ:

 

On an ordinary Shabbat, the name of Isaac ( Yithchok) emerges. During the high Holidays ( Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur)  the last word of each verse is rearranged and Isaac's wife, Rivka emerges. (Rivkah is the dominant character in the story. She is the parent that chooses Jacob over Esau)

 בְּפִי יְשָׁרִים תִּתְרומָם.

וּבְדִבְרֵי צַדִּיקִים תִּתְבָּרַךְ.
וּבִלְשׁון חֲסִידִים תִּתְקַדָּשׁ: .

וּבְקֶרֶב קְדושִׁים תִּתְהַלָּל

The first significant letters of the first words are: P.D.L.Q which rearrange to LiPQD. to assign, to count.  Having an assignment is satisfying. Having an assignment is demeaning. Can a person fulfill the assignment? In this poem, that is what we do not confront... but it is there.

Behar-Bechukothai: The Whisper

Behar-Bechukothai: The Whisper

 

This week, some stagecraft is employed as the Torah is read in synagogue.  The chant is reduced to a whisper and suddenly, the listener’s attention is focused as the volume is reduced  . It is the tochachah, the admonition, the sequence of punishments for the rejection of Gd and the covenant. The hush tones punctuate the ugliness of the message and convey a hope that these tragedies will never come to pass.

My generation, the post Holocaust, grew up in the shadow of the tochahah.  Jews, and selected others, suffered punishments that exceeded those described in the parsha. My parents whispered their stories of those times and that caught my full attention. This is a secret of  the Jews. How does one relate to the Gd that threatens punishment … and delivers.

The concept of discipline and instruction through penalty is antithetical to modern pedagogy.  Corporal punishment justifies the use of violence. Violence begets violence begets violence. Our worldview wants to break that cycle of brutality. The litany of the tochachah, read literally, conflicts with a modern worldview.

It is worse than that.  In the tochachah, Failure to recognize misfortune as punishment, and failure to reform, is chastised with additional, more severe adversity and disaster. Until the penitent sees his error and repents, things just get worse; it gets harder to see the errors when you are  hungry, dirty, and enslaved.   How can the victim feel about the Disciplinarian after her family is wiped out; after living like a hunted, burrowing animal for years. A hush comes over the whole Jewish enterprise.

 

The survivors of the holocaust and their offspring are confused. Which parts of this conglomeration of text, tradition, superstition, values, assimilation, accomplishments, etc.  are at fault?  What needs to be abandoned to prevent further tragedy? What should be kept? What was worth the agony? The ever worsening chastisements (culminating in death by torture scream for a re-assessment, but they do not help me sort it out. The terrible consequences show that their generation's approach did not work. 

                                                                                

We did not raise our children like our parents raised us.  My parents did not hit me, but, rarely, they raised the threat. We did not even threaten to hit our children. Our children react to misbehavior in  their children, our grandchildren, with explanation. It makes sense to me; I hope it works out better.

The tochachah is surrounded by rules relating to economic value. The first parsha, Behar, ends with the obligation to redeem the Hebrew slave.  The Torah thereby recognizes the descent to slavery may be precipitated by circumstances.  Freedom is a commodity that may be sold… temporarily. Liberty is very valuable, but its price is finite.  The tochacha is followed by the shekel-value of people as a function of age and gender. There is a weight of silver that equals my value to the authorities.  This surround of monetary value provides a context for the tochacha. The admonition is a humiliation, an insistence on humility. Recognizing the possibility of victimhood demonstrates that we are not indispensable; we are fungible for the most part.  Our achievements will not protect us.

 

I can love the Disciplinarian but the emotions are complex. I cannot fully understand my true value; but I know that it is finite. My perception of the world is a fantasy and all my corrections are off the mark.

Emor: defectives

Emor: defectives

Emor begins with disqualification from the sacrificial rite. Aaron, Moshe’s brother, and his descendants were chosen to be Cohanim, the clan that could perform the Temple service. Cohanim are forbidden contact with the dead (presumably to mourn them.) For ordinary Cohanim, close relatives, that are universally mourned, are exempted from the restriction. The kohen gadol, the High Priest ,has no exceptions. No matter how close the relative, the Cohen Gadol must remain  pure and avoid exposure to the  corpse tumah. The elevated status of the Cohen limits his life in significant ways:  the price of privilege.

The parsha becomes more cringy when it talks about the physical defects that disqualify a Cohen from performing the service. He cannot be blind, or lame or have an eye disease, etc. Now, there appears to be a conflict between the Enlightenment and Torah. Western culture has taught me to celebrate the triumphs of the disabled. The Torah disqualifies them from the Temple service.

I immediately imagine the blind, lame Cohen who, through simulations and extensive practice, knows just where to place the bowl to collect the sacrificial blood; places that blood in exactly the correct positions on the altar; waves the appropriate parts of the sacrificed animal; places the proper pieces on the burning altar and walks off to the appreciative applause of the Temple attendees.

Maybe I imagine this all wrong. I want the Torah to make sense to my contemporary self and show sympathy for the victim of Nature’s caprice. I do not want the Torah to offend my modern sensibilities. I confront the challenge of bringing these vectors into alignment.

The death of Aaron’s eldest sons, Nadav and Avihu, has demonstrated the danger of flawed Temple service. Perhaps the “disqualification”  of the flawed priest is really an exemption from the draft. The service would be too dangerous for a priest with a broken arm or impaired vision. That approach to the issue is an easy out.

More likely, the involvement of a priest with a disability would shift the focus of the service to the struggles of the challenged individual. The service would change from spectacle to human drama.  The intention of the author would be lost in sentimentality.

Having a disabled person perform the rite would display the cruelty of a Nature ruled by the One Gd. The sacrificial rite inherently includes a plea for Divine mercy and generosity. The performance of that rite by someone who had been deprived of some element of that goodness would lead to questions. Actually, the mention of the disqualification of the disabled in the parsha leads to those questions, perhaps in a more appropriate context.

 

The disqualification of flawed animals from the sacrificial rite is easier to accept. The altar cannot become a dump for unfit animals. On a deeper level, the demand for high quality livestock echoes the sacrifices of Abel and Cain.  Abel brought:” the choicest of the firstlings of his flock” and  Gd paid heed to Abel’s offerings. Cain, who brought less than the best, did not merit Gd’s attention. The consequence of this envy is the story of the first murder.  The wisdom of providing high quality has unforeseen consequences.

The requirement that sacrificial animals be unblemished is central to the story of the destruction of the second temple ( Gittin 56a):

The emperor went and sent with him (bar Kamtza) a choice three-year-old calf. While bar Kamtza was coming with the calf to the Temple, he made a blemish on the calf’s upper lip. And some say he made the blemish on its eyelids, a place where according to us, i.e., halakha, it is a blemish, but according to them, gentile rules for their offerings, it is not a blemish.

The blemish notwithstanding, the Sages thought to sacrifice the animal as an offering due to the imperative to maintain peace with the government. Rabbi Zekharya ben Avkolas said to them: If the priests do that, people will say that blemished animals may be sacrificed as offerings on the altar. The Sages said: If we do not sacrifice it, then we must prevent bar Kamtza from reporting this to the emperor. The Sages thought to kill him so that he would not go and speak against them. Rabbi Zekharya said to them: If you kill him, people will say that one who makes a blemish on sacrificial animals is to be killed.

Rabbi Yoḥanan says: The excessive humility of Rabbi Zekharya ben Avkolas destroyed our Temple, burned our Sanctuary, and exiled us from our land.

Was this story a prophetic vision of our parsha?

It is people who put the devil in the details.